Like primary colors,
My love towards you;
Never turns or palters,
Everything's quite true.
It has none boarders,
Nor drifts into the blue;
And it never falters,
In a standing value.
Coloration of colors,
Never need to redo;
Nothing there alters,
What love does imbue.
Each virtue orders,
Sees so clearly through;
Knows of no brooders,
Or those that argue.
The palette of colors,
Of shadings - quite new;
I've always loved you,
And newer withdrew.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem